


I, Icarus

by nezstorm



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Feels, I don't agree to my work being shared on other sites, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 11:10:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20965583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/pseuds/nezstorm
Summary: he’s lonely, he thinks, surrounded by song and drink as he sits by the campfire.





	I, Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> (just a thing a wrote on a whim while at the post office, I blame typos on autocorrect)

he’s lonely, he thinks, surrounded by song and drink as he sits by the campfire. he feels an itch under his skin for something that he doesn’t deserve. an ache for something different than Uncle throwing an arm around his shoulder to slur something into his ear, something that feels more than Hosea or Dutch clapping his back.

something that feels like what he tries not to think about unless he’s camped out alone under the night sky, his journal the only witness to his weakness.

he hears his name being called and he lifts his head to meet Charles’ gaze on the other side of the fire. it makes him look out of this world, the flickering blaze, even more unsuited for this life they’re living.

but still he’s here, looking at Arthur like he knows what’s on his mind, like he can read the solemness of his thoughts and see the direction they’re going.

maybe he does, maybe he shouldn’t, seeing as he’s the reason for Arthur’s turmoil. his kindness, his friendship, his loyalty, his skimming touches and searching eyes. his life hunger and gentle nature, despite the hand life dealt him.

so very different than Arthur, so much more human. a balm to soothe to Arthur’s monstrous, bloody hands. a beacon to the hollow and darkness of Arthur’s soul.

a heart that Artur would only ever bleed dry had he tried to touch it.

so he doesn’t answer Charles’ call with more than a polite nod of his head before he looks away. he stands and leaves the group to their song on the guise of needing a smoke.

he’s running, that’s what he’s doing, as he climbs onto his horse and rides, directionless. any road will do for a coward as long as he’s running away.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no plans to continue this at this point.


End file.
